Leif shouted as the giant who held me in his hand kicked him viciously in the ribs.
Releasing the other giant, I called again, and the power within me struggled to respond. The horse-faced giant’s fingers continued to close around me until with a scream, I felt every rib give way. With a burst of energy born of desperation, I blocked out the pain and switched my hold to his mind. His fingers lost their grip on me, and I fell in a broken heap next to Leif. If Leif had the power to heal himself of such trauma, it would certainly not be in time.
Through my haze of agony, I felt a warmth touch my fingers. Leif had reached out to me, his hand just brushing mine. I longed to grab hold, but I could no more wiggle my fingers than I could stand. My sweet sisters’ faces flashed before my mind; a pain far deeper than that of my broken bones twisted inside me. I had failed them.
A dark desperation gripped me as the horse-faced giant laughed above us. I wouldn’t lie here limply and accept my fate. I would not.
Something snapped within me, even as the blood streamed from my nose and my many wounds. My eyelids fell closed, darkness swallowing me whole. The door of light appeared once again, though this time, I could sense movement beyond the threshold.
Pull yourself through, a voice called.
Not without him, I thought.
With the last of my waning strength, I took hold of Leif’s hand. I could sense the giants looming above us. Inwardly, I dragged myself and Leif toward the door.
Agony shattered my body in a million pieces. The black nothingness of death threatened to take hold, but I fought it, my gaze fixed on the lit doorway.
I fell through, my fingers entwined with Leif’s.
In a free fall, our bodies descended through blinding white light.
And then there was nothing.
14
I blinked slowly into awareness. Bright sunlight beat down on my body, deliciously warm. The grass cradled me like the plushest down. A soft breeze teased my hair and stirred the leaves in the tree above me. But in a rush, I remembered.
I jolted upward as if I’d been branded, coming to my feet in a surge. I braced myself for an onslaught of pain, but there was nothing. When I gingerly touched the sites of my old wounds, I found nothing but healed skin.
A copse of trees surrounded me. They were like wardens of the woods, their leaves gently waving in the breeze. The trunks were so wide and gnarled there could be no doubt they were ancient, and for a moment, every muscle in my body tensed. Surely we had not stumbled into the Faerie Tunnel again.
“Leif?” I called, softly at first, then with increasing anxiety when I heard no response. I spun in a circle, my heart pounding rapidly. “Leif!”
The breeze picked up, drawing my eye to the softly rustling golden hair on Leif’s head.
He lay in the shade of one of the enormous trees, his limbs jutted out at strange angles to his body, as though he had been flung to the ground in a state of unconsciousness.
I sprinted to his side. Painful talons of fear held me in their grip as I watched his chest for the telltale rise of a breath. His clothing was shredded, but the skin underneath was smooth, as though already healed. After an agonizing moment, he took a breath. It was shallow, but there. Relief made my shoulders sag.
“Leif?” I said again softly. His eyes fluttered, but he did not stir.
My gaze traveled from his chest to his legs; even his leather leggings had been torn apart, yet there was no blood, no bruising, no sign we had nearly left this world. How long had we been here?
Tentatively, I moved the leather and chain mail covering his torso aside, but as soon as my fingers touched the warm skin beneath, Leif’s eyes flew open.
I jumped back as though scalded, and his lips twisted into an ironic grin. “By all means, princess, continue your intense scrutiny,” he said in a voice much gruffer than usual. “I can only hope you have found everything to your liking.”
Warring desires to embrace him and choke the life from him vied within me. I settled for glaring.
“Surely I do not deserve such a look after once again narrowly missing the chance to walk down the halls of Valhalla.”
Mollified, I softened my expression. “I was examining you for injury. Have you healed so quickly, then?”
With a groan, he rolled to his side before pushing himself laboriously to his feet. He swayed for a moment as if he’d lose his balance, and I darted out my hand to steady him. “Not even I can recover so quickly from such a battle.” His gaze swept over me. “Though it appears you have.”
“You speak the truth, but I don’t how it happened. I don’t even know where we are.”
“I’m sure it’s somewhere with an abundance of Celtic monstrosities,” Leif said, taking in his surroundings with a wary expression. “What’s clear is that you transported us somewhere the j?tnar couldn’t follow.”
Now that Leif was on his feet and, if not fully healed, surely on the way to being so, a new anxiety gripped me. “Yes, but how will we return if I don’t even know how we got here?”
“We’ll worry about that later. First, we must find water.”
He strode away as though he knew where he was going, and it was then that I heard it, too—the quiet murmuring of a brook.
We followed the sound to its source, only a short distance from where we had lain. The brook cut a path through the trees, the water so beautifully clear it sparkled like gemstones as the sunlight struck it. Leif cupped his hands and drank without hesitation, gulping greedily. Watching him drink, I became suddenly aware of my own thirst, my throat as dry as sand. Eagerly I knelt down, cupped my hands, and drank. The water was as cold as a mountain stream, and so sweetly delicious, I drank numerous cupfuls before my thirst was finally quenched.
Wiping the excess water with the edge of my cloak, I sank back on my heels.
Leif sat down heavily beside me, and for a moment, we stared at the stream and breathed. “I think it’s time we figured out where we are,” he said.
“What do you remember?” I asked, thinking of the shining doorway.
Leif’s jaw tightened. “All of my men dying. The j?tnar nearly killing us both. And . . .” His eyes shifted from the water to my face. “. . . your hand upon mine.”
His intense gaze captured my attention for a moment, and I bit the inside of my cheek just to prevent my traitorous body from closing the distance between us. I glanced down at his hand beside me, the visible tendons and veins proof of its strength. And yet we had failed.
I imagined the j?tnar continuing their path of destruction all the way to Mide, and my breaths came faster. “A doorway appeared in my mind, and a voice told me to pull myself through.” I met his gaze. “But I couldn’t leave you.”
He touched my cheek with the hand I had only just been admiring, warmth spreading down my body. “I’m grateful you saved me. I’m only sorry you had to. It’s clear we were spared so the quest will continue. We’ll find a way back.”
But what then? With all our strength, we barely survived. I couldn’t say the thoughts aloud, as though giving voice to them would grant them power over me.
A whispering came from the trees above us. Subtle at first, like a soft breeze rustling the leaves. It soon grew to a level where it was apparent words were being exchanged, though the language was beyond either of our understanding. It sounded as organic as water flowing over rock, or the wind howling through branches.
I glanced back at Leif, and he nodded—an unspoken acknowledgment that we were not alone.
The water joined in, murmuring in the same language as the trees, adding to the cacophony. Amid this chaos, a door appeared within the tree nearest us, and a brightly lit beast stepped through.